I'm Sure You Didn't Mean
by LapizLasuli
Summary: ...then, again, maybe you did.  Temperance Brennan, Seeley Booth.  Fluff, General.


**Title:** I'm sure you didn't mean that...  
**Characters:** Temperance Brennan, Seeley Booth  
**Summary:** ...then, again, maybe you did.  
**Genre:** Fluff, general. Completed.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Bones? Not mine.

* * *

"Did you _hear_ him?!" 

"Bones..."

"He's an idiot!"

"Maybe, but we need him on board. Could you try not to- "

"We need _him_?"

" -antagonize him? Yes, we do, for the _case_! So, could you do that? For once- "

"Once? I'm sure you didn't mean- "

"Okay, okay! _This_ time - as a favour- "

"Excuse me? I do you lots of favours- "

"Like?"

"I explain things so that you can understand them..."

"Oh, I'm just _positive_ you want to re-phrase that!"

She watched as he nodded his head. "Maybe..."

"Because I _know_ you didn't mean that to sound the way it did," he continued, now shaking his head.

"No..."

"Like you have to dumb things down for me," he concluded, head still shaking.

"No, of course not! I simplify- explain things simply- I mean," she amended, hastily, "I re-phrase things in non-scientific, laymen's terms, fully aware of the fact that we don't share the same educational lev- background."

"Good recovery! See, now?" he grinned. "That wasn't so hard. This is an example of why..."

"Booth is good with people..."

"...and Brennan is crap."

They drove for a while in silence.

"Should we see Dr Wyatt, again?"

"Bones, I was kidding - "

"I know _that!"_

" - kind of... Then why?"

"Why _not_?" she teased. "There, doesn't that sound like the kind of response he'd come back with? It's kind of a thing I think the English do - turning everything around to end in a question. They're made for psychiatry!"

"Bones..."

"I like him," she shrugged. "He reminds me of my time in England. Because he's very English."

"How come I didn't know that?"

"That he's English?"

"Ha ha! No, that you were in England?"

"Well, Booth, I guess you just don't know everything about me." She turned to smirk at him. "So, either the FBI doesn't have a full dossier on me - which, when you think about it, isn't very reassuring from a security point of view - you know, with this 'war on terrorism' and stuff - "

"Maybe they just thought- "

" -or they do, but you were just too lazy to read it all."

" -it wasn't terribly important- Wait, lazy?" he replied, managing to look offended and embarrassed at the same time.

"Oh! You _were_, weren't you?!"

"So I skimmed - big deal - not like you hadn't been working for the Bureau for a while, anyway."

"God is in the details... "

"Oh, no - _you_ don't get to start lecturing me on God's whereabouts!"

"Sooo... You must've decided that, as I was already working with them, there's no way I could be classified as dangerous - a threat..."

"Yeah, kind of- "

"Uh huh...so, then, there isn't any _real_ reason I can't have a gun."

"Two years ago, maybe not. Now? No way in hell! Nice try, though."

She turned back to the window, grinning.

"So, you gonna tell me? England? When and why?"

"Oh, a while back. I did some post-doctoral work at Cambridge."

"Not Oxford?"

"No," she sighed. "Oxford isn't _better_, you know, especially in the sciences."

"Is that why you chose Cambridge?"

"Yes, partly - but I also preferred the name."

"The _name_?"

"Yeah... I like the way it sounds. I can decide to be quirky, when I want to be."

"No, Bones, it doesn't- You don't- You can't decide or _choose_ to be quirky - like deciding to try to be rational."

"Why not?"

"Because- because...you just can't! It'd be like deciding to be spontaneous...impulsive! Or deciding to do nothing."

"Deciding to do nothing _is_ a decision - a perfectly valid one. After all, in science, negative or no results are still results."

"Yes, but- "

"I'm not positive, Booth, but I think you might be mistaking the decision with the action. And they're _not_ the same."

"I have a headache," he grumped, glaring at her.

She smiled, serenely. "Oh... Want me to drive?"

"No! I said a headache, not a migraine- "

"A migraine _is- _"

"God help me, as soon as the words left my mouth...! There should be some aspirin or something in the glove compartment."

Her hand emerged with a bottle. "These are pretty strong, Booth," she noted, inspecting the label.

"Yeah, I know." He held out his hand.

"And out-of-date. Do you want to stop- "

"Just give me the damn pills, Bones!"

"Fine, no need to snap!" She shook a couple into his outstretched hand. "I was just trying to help..."

He swallowed the pills, grimacing at their dryness. "I know, I'm sorry. Headaches always make me cranky. But these pills act fast- "

"Don't expect this lot to - they won't be as effective, being old. Even so, you shouldn't be driving with them. Let me- "

"Bones, if I start to veer or fall asleep, you can thump me. Keep talking - tell me about England. How'd you like it? I mean, they don't have the death penalty...their cops don't carry guns..."

"Neither do a lot of their criminals..." She paused, frowning. "I liked it - liked them. They didn't seem to be as...I don't know, superficial? They were polite, but there was no...veneer - no enforced cheerfulness, niceness." She sighed. "I'm not explaining it well- "

"No, I get what you mean. Not about the politeness - some of the rudest damn people I've ever met were over there!"

"Rude rude or polite rude?"

"Polite rude."

"Oh, yeah, that's an art. Like a stiletto knife - you've got to know exactly how to use it. You said 'over there' - when did you go?"

"Few years back - you know, training," he shrugged, dismissively.

"Ooo, secret squirrel stuff!" She sat up straight. "Black Ops? Tell- "

"Need to know, Bones, need to know."

She settled back. "I don't think they have this need to be liked by everybody. The English," she clarified.

"Well, no wonder you felt comfortable- HEY! What'd you do that for?"

"Sorry, I though you were falling asleep."

"Talking?

"I saw your eyes closing- "

"It's called blinking!"

"Not in slow motion it isn't! You know, Booth, there's a diner just up ahead, and I could really- "

"Use a coffee?"

"Well, pee - but, yeah, coffee afterwards would be good."

He looked at her suspiciously, but nodded and pulled into the diner. "Bones isn't crap with people," he stated, quietly, as she collected her bag.

"Oh, I'm _sure_ you don't mean that!" she smiled, fingers paused on the door handle.

"Okay, not with _all_ people..." he teased. "Go ahead - I'll order the coffee. Here or to go?"

"Here - and _you_ should have tea. And if there's any- "

"I know, I know, cherry pie... Go! Or you'll be walking cross-legged. And I don't want to be seen with anybody who had to do _that_!"

"Ha! I've got great PFMs..."

"I don't want to know what those are, do I? Nooo, didn't think so..." he mused, and slowly followed his partner's laughter indoors.

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End file.
